Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga

by D. A. Roberts

  “How do you know?” she whispered.

  “I don’t,” I replied. “It’s just what I believe will happen. It’s the same feeling that keeps warning me of danger and led me to your parents. I’ve learned to listen to those feelings.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “We all have.”

  She had a pensive look on her face, like there was something else she wasn't saying that was weighing on her mind. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, like she was looking for the right words to say and wasn't quite sure where to begin.

  “Say what's on your mind,” I said, trying to smile.

  I knew that whatever it was, it probably had something to do with the conversation she wanted to have before all of this began. I knew something was bothering her, but we'd never quite had the time to discuss it. Despite the uneasy feeling I had in the pit of my stomach, I knew that there might never be a better time. Hel, with our luck, there might not be another time at all. There was enough danger surrounding us that every day could be our last.

  “Why?” she began softly, tears beginning to appear at the corners of her eye. “Why won't you take back the gun and badge?”

  I sighed audibly, letting her question hang in the air between us. I had been expecting this question for some time. The day I had finally made it back to the group, she had tried to give them back to me. While I was relieved that she had kept the old Colt, I also knew that part of my life had passed. They belonged to her now. The journey for me was going a different direction and they weren't a part of that. They were hers now, for good or for ill.

  “I'm not the same man I was when I wore them,” I said, trying to find a way to say what I felt. “That Wylie is gone. It's up to you to be the leader that they need. You keep them.”

  “But everyone still looks to you,” she said, shaking her head. “They all expect you to be the sheriff or leader or whatever you want to call it. They need you to be there to protect them.”

  “And I will be for as long as I can,” I said, frowning. “But those are a symbol of something I can no longer be. I'm not Wylie the guardian anymore. The person who wears that badge needs to be that, and something much more, for the people. They need to be an ideal for everyone to hold to. The one person who will show them the way.”

  “Why can't you do that?” she said, her tone growing slightly sharper.

  “When I fell,” I said, searching the images that flashed through my mind, “it was more than just luck that pulled me through. I emerged from the crucible very different from when I went in. Surviving all of that brought me through the fire. I know that in order to end this nightmare, I will have to be much more than the sheriff of this group. I entered the fire as a soldier. I'm not sure what I've become, but I know that I'm different.”

  “I can see that,” she said, trying to smile.

  “Not just physically,” I said, shaking my head. “The old Wylie is gone. I lost my eye but gained a much broader vision of the world. I know where destiny is taking me and it lies far beyond this place. We have to end Ragnarok.”

  “We will…,” she began.

  “I saw a vision of the coming battle,” I said. “I only saw one set of tracks leaving in the snow.”

  “That doesn't mean anything,” she said, her lip beginning to quiver.

  “Maybe not,” I said, shaking my head. “But if only one of us survives this battle, I want it to be you.”

  “I lov…,” she started to say, but I put my finger on her lips to stop her.

  “Don't,” I whispered, sadly. “This can only end one way. I think that in your heart you already know that.”

  Tears were streaming down her cheeks and I could feel the sobs shaking her body, but she fought back making any sound. Her strength was always something amazing to see. In many ways, she was a stronger person than I ever could be. I knew how she felt about me and how I felt about her. Saying out loud would only make things harder for both of us. There was no sense in acknowledging something we would never be able to do anything about.

  I held her for a while and let her get it out of her system. If anyone else in the room was aware of the emotional war that was going on inside her, there was no outward sign. Only the soft breathing of the others and the snoring of Butcher indicated that anyone else was even there. After a few minutes, I felt her relax and her breathing returned to normal. I just held her and let her pull herself together.

  Although we both knew how the other felt, this embrace was all we would be able to share. I loved my wife and would not betray my vows to her. Spec-4 deserved more than that, but it was all I could give her. To give in and do more would make me less of a man, and certainly not the man she had feelings for. Honor and integrity were everything. Without them, we were no better than the dead who haunted our lives. We were no better than the Hrimthurssar.

  “Why don't you get some sleep,” I said, as gently as I could. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Alright,” she sighed, nestling in close to me.

  She began to relax and breathe steadily. I had to force myself to release the tension and to stop the swirling of thoughts that were running through my mind. Little by little, I made myself calm down and willed my muscles to unknot. It was only through sheer willpower that I managed to make the churning thoughts subside.

  As I felt myself slipping into sleep, I could see my vision begin to swim. It seemed as if I was opening and closing my eye in slow motion. Each time, the room became darker and the light from the fire seemed more fluid. Just as the room was becoming nothing more than a blur of fiery light, I opened my eye to find everything had changed.

  Instead of the roof above me, I could see the stars. Since I knew that there had been a storm raging outside, there was no way that I should be seeing a clear sky. The walls were gone, as well. I sat up to find I was lying on a bedroll next to an open fire. It crackled with life and I could feel the heat radiating from it. Sparks leapt from the flames and climbed into the night sky, drifting away on a gentle breeze.

  Sitting up, I was instantly awake and ready for a fight. My hand went instinctively for the swords that were resting at my knee, only to find they were gone. Also missing was my armor and guns. I was sitting on the ground beside a warm fire, with only the clothes I was wearing and the bedroll that I had been wrapped in. No weapons or armor and no one else around. Only the crackling of the fire and the whispering of the wind broke the stillness of the night.

  There was snow on the ground, but the sky was crystal clear with the light of the stars twinkling as cold as the crisp mountain air. Wherever I was, it was nowhere close to where I had been when I fell asleep. I could smell the pine trees in the air and the thin air made my lungs burn. I was definitely at a much higher elevation than was even remotely possible in the Ozark Mountains.

  Just as I was about to stand up to take a better look around, a face appeared in the dancing light of the fire directly across from me. The sudden appearance made me tense up for a fight, but I immediately relaxed when I recognized the smiling visage of the Old Man. He was still clean with the braids and eye patch that was similar to my own. He looked healthy and more vibrant than I could ever remember seeing him. Before, I only suspected he was the God Odin. Now, he truly looked the part.

  He smiled broadly and I could see the firelight reflected warmly in the darkness of his eye. Although I could only see his face, I could tell that he was no longer wearing the tattered clothing that he had worn when we first met. He was wearing armor and a heavy cloak, much more befitting the person that I knew he had to be. This was no crazy, homeless wretch. This was Odin, the All-Father and Lord of Asgard.

  “You figured it out, didn't you boy?” he said, smiling and nodding.

  “All-Father?” I said softly, tilting my head to the side.

  “Bingo,” he replied, narrowing his eye.

  “I…,” I stammered. “I don't…”

  “Don't over-think it, son,” he interrupted. “We don't have t
hat much time. We need to talk.”

  “What about?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “You need to be careful,” he said, frowning. “The Hrimthurssar are going to betray you.”

  “I know that they will,” I said, shrugging. “Do we have a choice? We can't take on the Eldjötnar on our own.”

  “That's a fact,” he said, nodding. “You need the Hrimthurssar as much as they need you. The problem is, they don't plan on keeping the peace once the battle is over.”

  “I knew that would be the case,” I said, sighing. “We can't trust them.”

  “Well, not all of them,” said the All-Father. “There are a few who will wish to join you, if you play your cards right. Not all of them are truly evil.”

  “But some of them are,” I replied. “The trick will be telling them apart.”

  “Maybe not so difficult as you would imagine,” he said. “Some will have no problems showing their true colors. Thrym is the one you really need to watch. He is the most dangerous foe you have yet to face.”

  “What about Surtr?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “Surtr is something different,” he answered, his face darkening. “I cannot see the outcome of that battle. It is possible that you could defeat him, but it is very unlikely. Surtr is beyond anything this world has seen in millennia. He is beyond anything you have ever faced.”

  “That's reassuring,” I said, blowing out a breath.

  “Do not forget,” added the All-Father, “that the only thing that Surtr hates more than the Einherjar is Thrym. He will go to great lengths to destroy him. That's why Thrym came to you. He knows that he cannot defeat Surtr without your help, and possibly even with it.”

  “This just keeps getting better,” I whispered.

  “Defeat them both and Loki's plans will fall apart,” he added. “Without Surtr, the Eldjötnar will return to Muspelheim. Without Thrym, the Hrimthurssar are no longer a threat. Loki will have no choice but to end this. Ragnarok will be averted.”

  “What about the Fimbul Winter?” I asked, looking up.

  “It will end in time,” he explained. “When it does, your people can begin to rebuild.”

  “What about the dead?” I added.

  “They may continue to be a problem for some time,” replied the All-Father. “That is a curse that will not easily go away. The Fimbul Winter will take care of some of them for you, but there will be some who will survive. There will be danger, but your people will have a chance to start anew. It will not be easy.”

  “The good things never are,” I said, nodding gravely.

  “One last thing,” he said, smiling.

  “Yes?” I said, narrowing my eye.

  “The woman with you,” he began, nodding into the darkness. “The one you call Spec-4.”

  “What about her?” I asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.

  “Don't be so quick to push her away,” he said, with a gleam in his eye. “Her destiny is intertwined with yours. The difference is, I see her living to an old age. She will carry on the legacy and lead your people when the battle is over.”

  “I had a feeling that she was my Valkyrie,” I said, smiling.

  The All-Father cocked his head to the side and seemed to study me across the fire.

  “Funny you should say that,” he said, chuckling.

  With that, the fire gave a massive crack and sent sparks flying high into the air. I had to bring my arm up to shield my face and when I lowered it back down, I was back in the cabin with Spec-4 sleeping on my arm. I could hear the breathing of the others in the room around us, and see the flames in the fireplace casting a flickering light around us. Bergelmir sat on a chair beside the door, his sword unsheathed and laying across his knees.

  Slipping away from Spec-4, I wrapped her in my cloak and got to my feet. Buckling my weapons back on, I headed over to sit beside Bergelmir on the sofa. Although he never turned to face me, he smiled when he sensed my presence.

  “Trouble sleeping, brother?” he asked, keeping his deep voice low.

  “Strange dreams,” I replied, not elaborating. “Hear anything outside?”

  “Only the wind,” he said, shrugging. “The storm seems to have died down.”

  “Good,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my hip flask.

  Taking a pull off of it, I offered it to Bergelmir. He accepted it with a grateful nod and took a long sip. After he handed it back, I replaced the cap and stuck it back in my pocket. One drink was all we would allow ourselves until we were back inside the compound. Too much risk involved with losing your focus out here.

  “What do you make of all of this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice barely above a whisper.

  “They need us,” he said, matching my volume. “More so than we need them. However that will not keep them from turning on us.”

  “I was already anticipating that,” I said, scratching my beard.

  “I knew you would be,” added Bergelmir. “Thrym is undoubtedly already planning his attack. He knows that if he can defeat you, then nothing can stop Ragnarok.”

  “Even if he gets by me, he still has to get past all of you,” I said, gesturing around the room.

  “I believe that he only sees you as a threat,” replied Bergelmir. “Of all of us, only you and I could engage Thrym with any chance of winning. Even I would have to be very lucky to defeat him. He is too powerful of a warrior to be defeated by any of the others.”

  “That wouldn't stop them from trying,” I said, nodding.

  “And dying,” added Bergelmir, gravely.

  Those words hung heavily in the air and I let them fade off into the darkness before I spoke again. Despite myself, his words had brought frightening imagery to mind, of an intense battle where I could see my friends falling before the blades of massive ruddy skinned warriors. I knew that they had to be Eldjötnar and it was clear to me that they couldn't be anything else. Just the image of them sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Have you fought the Eldjötnar before?” I asked softly.

  “No,” replied Bergelmir. “But my father told me tales of them. Many Hrimthurssar warriors have fallen to them.”

  “I have the feeling that a few of us will fall, as well,” I whispered, giving voice to the fear that had been growing inside me since I first heard the name Eldjötnar.

  We sat in silence listening to the crackle of the fire, and the wind outside as it howled through the night. After a long still moment, Bergelmir turned to me and spoke softly, but with gravity in his words. I knew that he had been thinking long and hard about what he was about to say.

  “You realize that we have no other choice,” he said, frowning.

  I could tell that it wasn't intended to be a question, but a mere statement of fact.

  “We must work with them to fight the Eldjötnar,” he said, looking me right in the eye. “However, we must be ready to strike before they turn on us. As soon as the Eldjötnar are defeated, we must turn on the Hrimthurssar.”

  “I know,” I replied, looking down. “That goes against how I was raised. I have no problem fighting them if they turn on us, but I have to give them the chance to do the right thing. I have to believe that they can make the right choice.”

  “You will be deceived,” said Bergelmir. “Rest assured, they will turn on us. If we do not strike quickly, they may kill us all. If that happens, then all is lost.”

  “Then we'd better be ready,” I said, sighing softly.

  “We will be,” he assured me.

  “Why don't you go get some rest,” I said, nodding at him. “I'll take watch now.”

  Bergelmir nodded once, then headed for the corner where he had placed his bedroll. After he had settled in, I turned away and listened to the sound of the wind raging against the cabin. I knew that there was no more sleep in me for the night. My mind was whirling through the possibilities and trying to predict the outcome of each decision I knew that I was going to have to make over the coming days. This wa
s not going to be easy.

  I sat brooding in silence until the sound of the wind had died away to nothing and I could see light was beginning to appear at the edges of the blankets that we had hung over the windows. Morning was here. It was time to wake the others and start our day. We had a lot on our plate for the coming day and it wasn't going to get done by letting everyone sleep. It was time to get to work.

  Putting my fingers in the corners of my mouth, I blew out a loud and shrill whistle that brought everyone up and out of their bedrolls. It was loud enough that everyone reached for their weapons and came awake ready to fight. It was that kind of reaction that would help keep us alive in the coming days.

  Chapter Nine

  Pale Morning Light

  “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide.

  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

  - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

  Once we had all gathered outside of the cabin, I nodded to Bergelmir. As he began to reach for the big signal horn that was stuck in his belt, Spec-4 turned to look at me with an uncertain look on her face. I could see the nervous glances being exchanged by the others, but no one argued with the choice to call the Hrimthurssar back and tell them my decision.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” asked Spec-4, softly.

  “Want?” I said, shaking my head. “Want really doesn't factor into it. This is our only choice if we intend to fight the Eldjötnar and have any chance of winning.”

  Bergelmir watched us for a moment before raising the horn to his lips and giving three long blasts that seemed to echo off into the distance and rolled through the hills. Before the last note had faded away, I could hear an answering horn reply with its own call. This one was slightly higher pitched and there were only two notes to the call. Immediately following the call of the horn, I could hear the howling of the Vargr. The Hrimthurssar were coming.